152
Balls up
⚽

"Let's just walk over the woodlice," you say to Daniel. "I mean, we _are_ about a million times heavier than them. We _should_ just be able to squash them as we go."

"I don't know Arthur," replies Daniel, a look of trepidation in his eyes. "Do you really think it will work?"

In answer you take a determined stride forwards, towards the waiting woodlice hordes. They look back at you from their tiny little compound eyes, their little antenna waving in the air. Daniel sets off behind you.

The first couple of steps pass without mishap. A few of the woodlouse stragglers on the edge of the multitudinous crowd are flattened under the soles of your shoes and you smile, your confidence growing.

But then, as if some kind of telepathic signal passed between the woodlice, in exactly the same moment, there is a whisper of chitin and they simultaneously roll into tight balls - their defensive posture.

You try to stop your forward momentum but it is too late.

Your left foot propels itself through the air and comes down. Onto hundreds and hundreds of little woodlice balls. It is like stepping on a tray of marbles - you don't stand a chance. Your foot rolls on the little balls, grip on the floor hopelessly lost. It shoots forwards and your body shoots backwards - and downwards.

"Aaaargh!" you cry out, landing on the floor with a terrible crash, banging your head. Your fall has crushed to death thousands of woodlice but it is not enough, there are millions more to take their place.

As you slip into unconsciousness, you are vaguely aware of Daniel falling next to you, like a felled tree among the woodlice. You are not sure, but you think you can hear millions of tiny cheers.

Then - everything goes dark.